


Whisper to the Wind

by Reynarius



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fix It Fic, Old God Shenanigans, We Fix Blizzard Lore in this House, angsty warcraft lesbians, ladies being badass, long lost lovers, perhaps sylvanas is OoC but i tried, soft content, the WoW we deserve to have, the women are going to save azeroth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16024955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reynarius/pseuds/Reynarius
Summary: N'zoth, the last remaining Old God shared their visions of a dying world. Ones that would come to pass unless Sylvanas Windrunner did as they commanded - ignite a war between the Alliance and the Horde once more. But sometimes, the heart commands more than the mind. With unity came strength, should Hope fall and Light fade, they would stand together.





	1. First Light

**Author's Note:**

> continued from my little one shot piece "the sun which chased the moon" it birthed a whole gd long fic and im shook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> continued from my little one shot piece "the sun which chased the moon" it birthed a whole gd long fic and im shook

This was a call for peace. It would cast aside old hatred and violence in the favor of a future built to the betterment of both the Alliance and the Horde.

_Rivers of blood, mountains of broken bodies. Screams of the tortured and anguished, the drums of war._

To discuss the strength of unity. How together, unified under one banner, they could stand against the coming wave of darkness.

_Shattered kingdoms, ruined lands. None shall be left standing. That is all that awaits the peoples of Azeroth._

Together they would stand strong against all odds.

_Darkness beneath the tides will wash across the land, none will survive. Enter that keep and you shall all know the embrace of the cold dark._

Either to die, fighting every step of the way. Or live on their knees as slaves to the Old Gods. The choice was clear.

_What Arthas did to you...it will pale in comparison to the torments will we bring to bear upon your soul, Sylvanas Windrunner. Not even the Creators themselves will be able to put you back together when we are through._

“Sylvanas, are you with me?”

The Banshee Queen shook the invading thoughts from her head, quelling the trembling in her hands. Tyrande reached up to brush some hair from her face, hand lingering against her cheek.

“You looked as if you were a million miles away and lost to darkness, my sun.”

She clasped that hand between her own, pressing a gentle kiss to the priestess’ open palm. “The Old Gods whispered again. I hear them, they were beckoning to me...I allowed myself to stray a bit too far.”

Concern laced across her expression. “Stand firm, my heart. We will set right the wrongs that have been committed, we shall stand against the coming darkness.”

She reached down and took Sylvanas’ hand, turning to look upon Stormwind Keep. The pathway to the grand palace was strewn with guards who would surely see and recognize the Dark Lady of the Forsaken, they would speculate why she was in the company of the High Priestess of the Night Elves.

And Anduin would know they were coming.

But together they would walk this path as far it would go, together they would stand. And if it came to it in the end and her offers for peace were denied, their peoples would unify and face the coming war alone.

“He will not harm you, Sylvanas.” Tyrande reassured as they began to walk. Feeling her lover’s unease.

“I appreciate you being so protective, my moon. But I fear that if the king deems it more appropriate for me to be locked within a cell or executed on sight, you may not be able to stop it.”

A glamour might have been something she was familiar with using, especially in an endeavor such as this. But she wore nothing but her own skin, her own armor - she was herself. And when the guard’s spotted her, shock spread among them in an instant. One ran for the keep and the others moved to stand against her.

“Lady Whisperwind? What is the meaning of this?”

Tyrande stood firm, not letting go of Sylvanas’ hand for even a second. “She is here to seek an audience with the King, I am...vouching for her.”

The guards eyed the High Priestess warily, sharing a glance between each other. Sylvanas prepared to strike, tensing as they seemed to share a silent conversation. Until finally they nodded and one of them turned back to her, barking out an order.

“Follow between us then, but no tricks _banshee._ We won’t hesitate to put you down.”

Sylvanas bowed her head in mock respect. Following one of the guards as he continued up the steps towards the keep, the other falling in behind them with spear raised directly for the Warchief’s back.

“That...went better than expected.” She murmured to Tyrande.

“Mmm, but it is not about to get any easier. Steel yourself for anything, my sun.” She whispered back, cracking a small smile.

They approached the grand entrance into the castle, drawing closer and closer to the great king Anduin Wrynn. To face his judgement and come praying for unity in the dark times to come, hoping that the young king would be willing to listen.

Walking up the hallway of the keep had Sylvanas tensing even more, Tyrande felt it and squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“I am with you, no matter what.”

Before she could even reply, they had reached the peak of the walkway up into the throne room and found themselves standing before Anduin. His eyes narrowed and burning with rage, before lifting his hand.

_“GUARDS!”_

In a split second, every single weapon in the room was trained onto the Banshee Queen and she felt cornered. Tyrande didn’t flinch next to her, but protectively placed herself between the weapons and her lover.

“You have moments to explain yourself, Lady Whisperwind. Sylvanas has even fewer to live.” Anduin warned.

The High Priestess stood tall, defiant in the threat of violence. Her voice somehow soft and harsh all at the same time.

“The reports from your spies in SI:7 told you that my people were attacked. That Ashenvale, Darkshore, and Teldrassil itself were nearly all wiped out by Sylvanas and Her Horde. Did they not?”

Anduin nodded, slowly making his way down the steps from his throne with Genn following close behind him. The old worgen refused to tear his gaze from the Banshee Queen, even the young king watched her from the corner of his eye.

 _“They think I bring deception to their doorstep. Untrue, but now to make them see.”_ Sylvanas mused silently.

Tyrande spared her a glance, continuing, “But her actions, they are not of her own volition. She hears the whispers, those belonging to one of the Old God’s - _N’zoth._ ”

The entire throne room broke out in a flurry of voices, panic rose even amongst the King’s Royal Guard. Another voice rose above the chatter, most prominently belonging to Genn Greymane.

“So the banshee is an agent of an old god? Let us flay her where she stands, before she brings us _all_ to ruin!” He snapped and growled, stayed only by the outstretched hand of the High King.

“No! Sylvanas made a choice today, the Old Gods commanded her throughout her attack on my lands. But she did not listen, not to every command.” Tyrande shot back, stepping forward in defense.

Genn snarled. “How can you _support her!?_ She slaughtered your people, _butchered_ your husband!”

Rage, cold and harsh filled the High Priestess’ voice. “ _I KNOW!”_

Everything went dead quiet in that moment, that tension had built so much. The Dark Lady reached a hand out to her lover but her touch was cast aside, rather harshly.

“I grieve for the loss of both my husband and of my people, but I realize that it was not a choice she made willingly!” Tyrande snapped, the anger rolling off of her in tangible waves.

The words left the old Worgen’s mouth before he could stop them. “So quick to forgive her, like a spell has been cast. Tell me, Lady Whisperwind, did you fuck her before or _after_ she murdered your husband?”

Before anyone could even think of speaking, Tyrande actually _struck_ Genn. With enough strength behind her strike that he stumbled back, one of his front fangs chipped off. Sylvanas moved immediately to restrain the High Priestess while Anduin held back the worgen.

“That is _enough!_ ” Anduin shouted, his command alone was enough to bring Genn to heel.

“Ask her then! Ask her why she _reeks_ of the Banshee Queen. Why she chose to betray her people for a quick lay.”

She bared her teeth then, struggling in the Banshee Queen’s grasp. “If I were not restrained right now, the fury of Elune herself would be brought to bear again you, Greymane!”

Sylvanas squeezed her arms tighter around the High Priestess, hoping to bring her back to some sort of composure. Tyrande recognized her own rage in that moment, burning uncontrollably within her heart and took a moment to steady herself.

Sorrow crossed over her expression and she gazed at Anduin, bowing her head. “Forgive me, your majesty…”

“I believe you owe us an explanation, Lady Whisperwind.”

“Windrunner and I...we are connected, we have been long before either of your ancestors were even in existence. Malfurion never had my heart, _Sylvanas did._ ”

Tyrande paused, looking down at the ring on her hand. It was her vow, her promise - she would marry Sylvanas Windrunner.

Toying with the small iron ring, she continued. “We came together under a vow, to bring peace to the Alliance and the Horde. There is some light still left within her heart, even though most refuse to see it.”

She cast a glance back at the Banshee Queen. “My heart aches for Malfurion’s death, for that of my people and I am enraged at the needless slaughter. To blame Sylvanas though, they were not _her_ commands.”

Hushed whispers of their engagement came from the guards but Anduin ignored them. Looking directly at Sylvanas then, hand resting upon the hilt of Shalamayne. “I believe Warchief Windrunner can speak for herself, and explain her _own_ actions.”

Tyrande ushered the Dark Lady forward, allowing her to stand before Anduin. She had defied the Old God’s themselves for this chance, she would not deem it fit to waste this opportunity.

The gnawing voice seeped into the back of her mind, taunting. _“This peace will not save any of you. Darkness comes!”_

With a sharp exhale, Sylvanas began. “I come before you, Anduin Wrynn, to call for peace. I know my actions were those of war, but as Lady Whisperwind stated - they were not my own. There is a power greater than all of us, we must stand together or else we all fall.”

Anduin's face hardened, his eyes narrowed. “You attacked Darkshore, your armies laid siege to numerous villages. The assault killed hundreds of innocent people, _you_ took the life of Malfurion Stormrage. Now after these atrocities, you wish to speak of peace? To claim these were not your own choices?”

Sylvanas sneered, squaring her shoulders. “The Old Gods, little Lion. They are the ones who are responsible, they commanded that I bring the full might of the Horde to bear against the Night Elves. And I did so _without_ question.”

“To what end? What did you gain for following their command?" 

Anduin’s voice was stern, he was angry. Rightfully so. Sylvanas was not denying what she had done, nor the prospect that it might just be a little too late to call for peace after she had already acted for the sake of war. But the boy king did not know the stakes which were being played, he could blindly make his choice. Then learn far too late what the consequences for his actions would bring upon their world, death all but certain for every soul on Azeroth.

Finally, she snapped back. “I did what I had to in order to save us all! You have not seen the things they showed me, the massacre they plan to bring upon us. Especially now since when I did not do their final bidding - they wanted me to burn Teldrassil to ash, to slaughter everyone inside. Women,  _ children _ , I could not…”

Sylvanas extended her arms then, “And it is why I stand before you, calling for peace. Because I realize that I only aid their goals and I will not be a pawn any longer.”

 

“You wish to know what the Old God showed me?” Sylvanas stated, her patience had reached its limit. She would not allow this peace to fail, not after all that had happened.

Anduin folded his arms across his chest. “Show us, what could have been worth all the lives you took today?”

“The end of all we know.”

She stood tall before the young king, pushing her hood back off of her head. Shadows enveloped her hand and coiled up the length of her arm. Her eyes drift shut as she cast some unknown spell onto the stone floor beneath her feet. Dark runes cracking and binding their way into the old rock, seeping into the room.

“Stand back, Tyrande.” Sylvanas warned, unmoving from where she stood.

Flickers of red magic sparked beneath the darkness encircling her arm, and Tyrande stepped back from her at the command. Holding her breath while Sylvanas worked whatever shadow-y spell this was.

“What trickery is this!?” Genn roared, moving to strike against her.

A flash of darkness burst from her then, sending the old worgen stumbling back. The suddenly bright throne room was plunged into a void of swirling black and scarlet. Sylvanas stood still through it all, shadows twisting around her entire form now.

“Come, boy king _._ See what is to be wrought upon this world by the Old Gods, unlike yours - _their threats are not hollow_.” She sneered, eyes snapping open to gaze upon the others.

The world formed before them and Tyrande immediately moved to Sylvanas’ side, the sky above was a deep scarlet hue. Smoke invaded the senses, drowning out all others. Life around them appeared to have been frozen in time, but began to move once more.

“They swore they will spill blood. Enough that all the lakes, the rivers and the streams shall run red with it. We would drown as the waves from the sea crashed upon our shores, tainted with the blood of our fallen.”

At her word, blood began to seep past their feet. Staining their armor as it passed by, a vision so vivid and so real. The metallic scent mingled with the smoke wading through the air. Tyrande found herself trying not to throw up from the horrendous concoction as it assaulted her senses.

Sylvanas looked to Tyrande next, face dropping. “Our armies would fall, hope will fall with them. Each one of our lives will be forfeit to them, none will stand against the end that comes.”

Just like that, battle began to rage around them. Hordes of faceless ones, known servants of the Old Gods, they cut down Alliance and Horde soldiers alike. Their screams rose to fill the otherwise silent scene.

“That is enough, Sylvanas. I...have seen enough.”

Red eyes landed on Anduin. The young king looked about ready to fall over, the horror he had to bear witness to here splayed so prominently across his face. Sylvanas knew she had proven her point, but there would be no turning back.

Not until he had seen all that she herself had. He had wished for the truth, he would get all of it and more. So much more.

“I did not get the privilege of making these stop, no...you must see. They will take all we love from us, everything will be lost to their rage.”

Everything shifted, the room spun but the scent of blood and smoke remained ever strong. Tyrande clung to Sylvanas’ arm and forced her eyes shut. The visions that the Dark Lady summoned had brought her own nightmares boiling forth, clawing at her just beneath the surface.

When the room stopped, they all found themselves standing on a cliff. Below them the ruins of Stormwind laid out, bodies filled the streets and blood decorated once pristine stone walkways.

“None are safe. None are free. This is what they showed me.” She stated, the flames of the dying city flickering in her eyes.

That was all it took, Anduin crumpled to his knees and stared at the streets of Stormwind. He knew it was just a vision, but to see it so vividly. To see the horror that was waiting for them all.

_He would not let it come to pass._

Genn had been silent up until that very moment, but even the worgen looked horrified at the sight. “She...speaks true then.”

Anduin rose to stand, swaying on unsteady feet. He looked to Sylvanas, watching as the darkness encompassing her form fell away. The vision around them faded and she was left standing there, clinging to Tyrande.

He looked around the throne room, finding several of his advisors propped up against the walls for support. Even a handful of his own Royal Guard were heaving, nearly throwing up bile onto the stone floor at the horror they just witnessed. Even he himself glanced down at his boots, just moments ago they had been splattered with blood and now had never looked more pristine.

“You see now then, why we must stand together? And why I did what I had to do? If you thought you could prevent it all by attacking Orgrimmar, or any other Horde city - _would you?_ ” Sylvanas broke the silence, looking up towards the king.

There was no hesitation in his answer. “If I thought it would stop that vision from coming to pass, I would.”

Sylvanas bowed her head. “I know an apology will not make right the things I have done, but it is sincere. Things will be made right, this peace will be a start down that path.”

“Very honorable of you, Lady Windrunner. You have...opened my eyes today, we must put aside our differences - now more than ever.”

Genn scoffed. “I don’t like this, but I know now you were truthful for once. Banshee Queen.”

“I vouched for her plea, you could at least pretend to have some faith in _my_ judgement, Genn. Instead of throwing degrading remarks.” Tyrande retorted, finally collecting herself enough to stand on her own.

“You walked in here _reeking_ of the Warchief’s scent. Forgive me if I was given a reason to doubt you, High Priestess.” The worgen snapped back, baring his teeth for a moment.

Sylvanas put herself protectively between Tyrande and Genn, red eyes narrowing in warning at him. But it was Anduin who stepped in to quell the sudden spike in tension.

“We all just witnessed the end of our world, now is not the time to be starting this treaty with even more threats. Allow me the time to call upon the other leaders, you should do the same, _Warchief._ ”

“Indeed. I say, as soon as we have gathered our council let us arrange a meeting place. Perhaps in Pandaria, or even Dalaran. I am certain that both the Pandaren and the Council of Six will wish to be present for this.”

The pair hesitantly shook on it, both aware it would take more than a handful of peace meetings to right the wrongs that had been committed. But to come to an agreement? That was leaps and bounds ahead of where they had been up until now.

“Until we meet again Lady Windrunner.” Anduin spoke softly, a kind smile managing to force its way onto his face.

Sylvanas bowed elegantly before the King but said nothing more, turning swiftly on her heel. Tyrande caught her arm as she breezed by, following the Dark Lady from the Stormwind Keep.

This had been the first step on a road that lead nowhere good, securing peace was one challenge. But to stand in defiance of the old ones themselves was another entirely. It was a path strewn with the promise of death and suffering, for all who traveled it.

But there was hope, it would not fall so easily. Unity made them stronger and they would not kneel before their tormentors any longer.

_The Old Gods would die._


	2. In Her Darkest Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Horde and Alliance hold their councils to discuss the fate of their world. But the war is coming to Azeroth sooner than any of them expect, and in her darkest hour: will they stand together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A LONG overdue update, full of feelings and ladies being badass. Please do enjoy :)

_“I never thought that in the horde’s darkest hour, you would be the one to save us.”_

Those had been Vol’jin’s final words to her before he breathed his last upon this very throne. Save the Horde, that had been the goal - that had been her promise. Instead she had nearly lead them to an early grave by following the commands of an Old God.

How foolish she had been. That troll must have been turning over in his grave as he watched her now.

_“Forgive me, Vol’jin. I see now, the truth of what must be done.”_

Suddenly, her reverie was taken from her. All thought brought to the voice that spoke up. “My lady, the others have gathered. Just as you ordered.”

Nathanos stood at the entrance, arms folded behind his back as he awaited his queen’s response. His voice, how it grated on her nerves, so much that she clutched the dagger in her hand tighter. For such a brief moment, she considered the possibility of driving it through his neck.

“Mmm, perhaps not.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Warchief?”

She sighed, waving her hand towards him. “Yes, yes I heard you. What are you waiting for? Bring them in already.”

Her champion shuffled out of the room with a grumble. Moments passed and the sound of footsteps could be heard, marching into the stronghold. Sylvanas rose from the throne as her leaders and advisors walked into the main hall. Grim expressions were plastered across their faces.

They were not happy, most likely with the actions of their Warchief. Sylvanas knew that much was for certain, and not that she could blame them for it either. Yet her hopes for this meeting including changing that, to unify them once again. To prepare for the stand against the coming darkness.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice. It was a matter of the utmost urgency.”

Saurfang bared his teeth, stepping forward. “Many thanks for including us in your planning this time, lest they become more murderous.”

Sylvanas took a moment to bite back the rage that boiled up in her chest. She was not undeserving of that remark, especially given all that had happened. But they would never come to trust her if she lost control at them now.

Collecting herself, she continued. “I know and understand that you all think...rather low of me currently. My actions were my own, albeit driven on by the threats of an Old God. I will not deny that I did what had to be done, what I truly thought would save us all.”

“And was butchering hundreds of innocents the answer? The Night Elves had done _NOTHING_ to us!” Saurfang snapped.

As he shouted there was a part within her chest, within her very soul that fought back against her rationality. It was a very old, very dark piece of her, how it screamed at her to let them see her wrath in its fullest. To be the Banshee Queen once again.

Lor’themar seemed to sense it as it bristled just below the surface of her skin, moving to defuse the situation before it could go that far. “What could the Old Gods possibly have done to frighten _you?_ What drove you to lead the Horde against the Night Elves?”

Sensing a repeat coming of what she had been forced to show Anduin and his council in Stormwind, Sylvanas’ expression grew dark. They would have to be shown, they would have to see what she had seen.

Only then would they understand.

“Prepare yourselves. You asked to see what I have, so allow me to let you bear witness to the horrors they have seared into my mind.”

As she uttered those words, she lowered her hand towards the ground and began to cast her dark spell. Just as it had happened in Stormwind, the dark rune appeared on the floor at her feet. Shadowy magic flared up around them and the room was suddenly flooded in darkness.

“What madness is this?” Saurfang growled, eyes narrowed as he spun around in a panic.

_“Our end.”_

The vision sprang to life around them, and one by one soldiers fell to the Old God’s forces. They would fight divided and fall one by one against the tides of darkness. Nowhere would be safe, _no one was safe._

Each of the leaders waivered, watching their people butchered like wild animals by the Faceless Ones. To see their cities and towns razed to ash and ruin, to see even themselves falling in battle. Any anger on their faces melted away, replaced by only grief and despair.

“Now you see, now you understand. N’zoth will not stop, not until he’s littered our lands with the bodies of our men, women and children.”

Sylvanas ended the spell with a wave of her hand, the rune quickly vanished from the floor. She watched as a few were brought to their knees, blood drained from their faces and there was a look in their eyes that told her that she had shown them all they needed to see.

“Of all the threats we have faced before, N’zoth will bring with him a force the likes of which we have never faced. The Legion will have been nothing compared to him. This is what he showed me, and it is why I attacked Teldrassil.”

Baine, who had knelt down after such a vision, looked up at the Warchief. “How can we stand against this? Do we even have a plan?”

As she stared out at her allies and friends who struggled to pick themselves up from the floor, her expression softened just a fraction. Thalyssra and Arcanist Valtrois both leaned on each other for support, Lor’themar stood alone and horrified. Eitrigg and Rokhan helped a dazed Gallywix back up to his feet.

These visions had hit them much harder than they were prepared for. So much fear rolled off of their shoulders. She could feel it, and she could hear it in Baine’s words as he spoke. 

But they saw, they understood.

She approached, offering out her arm to help bring the Tauren back to his feet. “Have faith, young Chieftain. We do have a course of action and it is why I called you all here. I do not leave you without hope.”

Sylvanas stepped back from Baine’s side and turned to stand before Saurfang. The old orc seemed pensive, his face drawn back stern and eyes narrowed.

“Anduin Wrynn has agreed to a treaty of peace. He realizes that we must be unified to face this threat. Preparations are already being made for a mass gathering in either Pandaria or Dalaran, both are neutral territory.”

Those words seemed to temper the Orc’s resolve to serve. He finally grunted and pounded his fist against his chest, over his heart.

“Then I will stand by you, Warchief. Until the very end, and we will find a more honorable path.” He took up his place at her side. Sylvanas knew he was set in his ways, honorbound and forever loyal.

Nathanos, the insufferable gnat that he was, spoke up then. Every head in the room turned to stare at the man who had just spoken out of turn.

“And...your betrothal to the Lady Tyrande? I suppose that is, a part of this treaty as well?”

“It is and it isn’t, Blightcaller. But as I recall telling you once before, what occurs between Lady Whisperwind and myself is none of _your_ business.” She sneered.

The champion sighed, shaking his head. “My queen, I am not certain we can trust an _Alliance Wh-.”_

Before he could even utter the next word, Sylvanas had thrown her dagger clear across the room. The blade grazed the side of his skull and struck the wall behind him, coils of shadowy magic seeping from its hilt.

Rage laced through her every word. _“Do not dare finish that sentence._ I will not hear any more of your whining about this _._ You would do well to remember your place, or the next blade finds its way into your skull. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Nathanos backed himself away into the corner without another word. Like a kicked pup that was sent running with its tail tucked between its legs. Sylvanas rolled her eyes before focusing back on the others.

“Anyways, at this moment the Alliance is currently discussing this treaty and the union. I am not certain when we will receive word from them, but I would hope soon. They always were the most diplomatic ones.”

 

* * *

 

“Pardon my language, my King. But this treaty is absolute fucking madness! We cannot trust Sylvanas Windrunner!”

Anduin slammed his hands down onto the table as Genn prattled on and on about how despite what they had witnessed, Sylvanas could not be trusted. Two hours of this endless bickering and it had gotten them nowhere near a final decision yet, Anduin had barely even begun to speak.

This was turning out to be a not so diplomatic meeting.

Tyrande pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can you do nothing but cast judgement Genn? Did you not see what we all did? Or are you just refusing to acknowledge it?”

That seemed to shut Genn up, the old worgen scowled and grumbled to himself. Anduin stood up straight and motioned around the table. “I would rather wait to continue further talks, we are still one short.”

Turalyon sighed. “We wait on Alleria as usual then, ever the absent one.”

Anduin ignored his comment and turned his attention to Vereesa, who had spent the duration of this meeting propped against the wall and toying with an arrow. Likely having tuned out the constant fighting - not that he blamed her for that.

“Vereesa?”

She almost immediately perked up at the sound of her own name being called. “Yes, your majesty?”

“Has their been any word from Alleria yet?”

Moving from her place against the wall, Vereesa approached the table to stand alongside an exhausted looking Jaina. Placing a comforting hand on the mage’s back. “None yet, but the messenger was sent only twenty minutes ago. She should still be amongst the Wyrmrest Accord in Northrend.”

Desperate for a distraction from Genn’s ravings and Turalyon’s whining, Anduin smiled. “How has she been? You visited her recently, did you not?”

“Indeed I did, its only been a few days since. But she seemed to be in very good spirits, Lady Alexstrasza has been taking excellent care of her.”

From across the table, Turalyon scoffed derisively at Vereesa. Anduin turned to glare at the man, raising an eyebrow. “Something more to share, High Exarch?”

The Paladin straightened up, bowing his head. “Nothing except to point out that Lady Alleria should have no say in the decisions of this council.”

“And why is that?”

“Her Void corruption makes her a liability. Not to mention that it seems she can barely even be bothered to make an appearance at this meeting. It is-”

Clearing her throat, Alleria’s voice rose up to cut off Turalyon’s. “I apologize most sincerely for the delay, my king. The Wyrmrest Accord is understandably cautious about who they let upon temple grounds, your messengers included.”

Anduin ignored the High Exarch’s snide remark of _'_ _Not cautious enough’_ and looked back to see the ranger standing in front of a portal. It shut behind her and she stepped up to the table. The King to her left and Vereesa and Jaina to her right, with Turalyon directly across the table.

“Alleria, no apologies necessary. I know you were off for a time but, this was a matter most urgent and could not be delayed.”

Now with everyone here, the real talks could begin. Anduin finally took his seat at the table as Alleria did, grim expression plastered across his face. “As most of you may be aware...Sylvanas Windrunner came to Stormwind recently, to offer a treaty of peace.”

“Obviously a fake treaty at that.” Genn remarked.

The King narrowed his eyes. _“Genn,_ that’s enough.”

“What exactly did our sister say to you, your majesty?” Vereesa asked, tilting her head to the side.

Anduin frowned. “That she had no other choice to attack Teldrassil, and when you see what she showed us...you would believe her too.”

Tyrande looked to Vereesa, chiming in. “It was N’zoth, he is making a claim for our world and he plots to take every one of us with it. He will bring ruin upon us all if we do not stand and fight.”

“We _must_ ask ourselves if it is truly a wise idea to trust the Horde now! No matter what end times they claim come, we must question everything...”

Genn purposely narrowed his eyes at the High Priestess. “Even the loyalty of those we may call our ally.”

“You would _dare!?”_

The Worgen growled, jabbing a finger towards her. “It is you who decided to _bed_ the Banshee bitch! You came into this keep, _reeking of her._ How can we not question her loyalty?”

“You did _what!?”_ Vereesa exclaimed, looking at Tyrande incredulously.

“I stand with the Worgen on this one, my King. For all we know, Sylvanas may have laid some powerful enchantments upon the High Priestess. Who knows what foul magic lies beneath the surface...” Turalyon remarked, hand coming up to rest on the hilt of his blade as he stared at Tyrande.

Alleria, who had been silent up until then, shot back with venom in her words. “You think anyone who does not worship the Light is a heretic in need of conversion, Turalyon. So your opinion on the matter is none of consequence.”

Shouting erupted between the leaders then, all of them standing up from the chairs. They threw blame and traded harsh words like blows on the battlefield. This was not what Anduin had in mind when he called for this meeting, nor was he eager to have another two or more hours of childish bickering.

Anduin squeezed his eyes shut before slamming his palm flat against the table. _“ENOUGH!”_

They stopped instantly, sinking back down into their seats and just silently glaring at one and other from across the table. He would not have them waste even more time with another argument, not when time now was all they had left.

“No more, we _must_ work together. Not accuse each other of treason! We need to work this out, for the sake of our world.”

Jaina offered a soft smile, knowing his struggle in this very moment. “Then please continue, your majesty.”

“According to the Warchief, N’zoth is preparing to launch an assault on Azeroth that could spell our doom. He showed Sylvanas the visions of his coming, what he would do to every city and every person if she did not do as he asked…”

He sighed. “And if I found myself in the position she was in, I would have done the same if I thought it would save us.”

Looking back out towards the leaders and their stern faces, the King inhaled sharply. “She asks that we trust in this peace treaty, that we place our faith in her. And hope that united, our peoples just might survive the coming war.”

Tyrande bowed her head. “Despite the actions she took against my people, Sylvanas realized her error. Realized that she would not be an Old Gods pawn and came seeking my help.”

Genn huffed. “And then some…”

Anduin silenced the worgen with a glare. “Lady Whisperwind and the Warchief have a...history, as I have been told. Tyrande has been forthcoming with that information, she hides nothing and it is something that they both intend to make part of this treaty - _their betrothal.”_

Alleria nodded slowly. “I cannot say I fully understand - in regards to both the marriage and the treaty, but I have not seen what most of you have. For now, I shall put my trust in you, your majesty.”

The King cast a smile towards the elf. “And I appreciate that, Alleria.”

“Where do we go from here, your majesty?” Turalyon remarked, slowly rising from his seat.

“Well, I am to work out specifics with Sylvanas but the war summit is going to take place in either Pandaria or Dalaran, seeing as both the Kirin Tor and the Pandaren should have some say in how to proceed.”

Alleria let out a small laugh. “A say in how to stop the end of our world.”

Vereesa glanced at her older sister then back to Anduin. “Then since we are… _mostly_ in agreement, shall I dispatch a messenger to Orgrimmar at once?”

“No, this is a message I am going to deliver personally. Jaina, I trust you can get my royal guards and I into the city?”

The mage nodded and Anduin rose from his seat at the table. “Allow me a moment to gather them then. This meeting is adjourned, please begin preparing your forces. We never know when the enemy may strike.”

Alleria remained seated as the King and several of the others shuffled out of the room, including Jaina and Vereesa. She could luckily hear the pair just in the nearby hall, but that still left her alone with Turalyon, who’s gaze she could feel burning into her from across the table.

“Stop glaring at me, lest you permanently have that expression stuck on your face.” She quipped without looking at the man.

Turalyon sighed. “You disappeared for weeks. I wish you would just talk to me, my love. Stop pushing everyone aw-.”

Alleria placed her dagger on the table, slamming it down hard enough that it cut him off mid-sentence. “I am not pushing _everyone_ away, it’s just  _you_.”

Tyrande who was still ever present, suddenly rose from her seat and bravely placed herself between them. Her hands raised as if it would hold off the impending fight. “Quell your rage, this is not the time to be turning against one and other.”

“You should have told _him_ that sooner. Might have done him some good back on Argus.”

Turalyon sighed and dared to step around the table, opposite of where Tyrande was blocking him. “The Void is trying to turn you against me, Alleria. This isn’t you, I know this isn’t you.”

Alleria narrowed her eyes. “Bold of you to assume that you know me.”

“I do! You let the Void into your heart and soul, it is twisting you. Just say the word and I shall take you to the cathedral now, we will help you walk the path of the Light, beloved.”

She bared her teeth and rose from her chair, anger creeping its way into her voice. “Do not _ever_ call me that again, I am not yours Turalyon. Not anymore.”

“That is _enough._ You two need to back off now.” The High Priestess warned, reaching to place a hand over the one Alleria had curled around the hilt of her dagger.

“Fine, but he can stay the hell away from me. I am done with you, Paladin.” Alleria snarled, glaring at Turalyon before she turned to walk from the room.

However, he was not letting her go that easily. He slammed his hand down upon the table and shouted. “What was the use of going to Northrend? You are even worse now than you were before you left! Why won’t you just _listen?”_

“Do not _push_ me, Turalyon.” Alleria warned when paused mid step to stare back at him.

But he seemed to be off on his tangent now and there was no stopping him it seemed. “You used to believe in the Light, believed in me! What happened? What did _I ever do to you!?”_

His denial. His blind belief that what he had done to her on Argus was alright, it set off the rage. She could not stop that very same fire from consuming her words.

She whirled back around, marching towards the paladin with her blade drawn. Her eyes were ablaze with her hatred. “The Light abandoned _me. YOU_ abandoned me. I begged and screamed for salvation, but you weren’t there.”

_Claim your vengeance. Tear his soul asunder. Leave only viscera in your wake!_

The tip of the blade was pointed right for him. “Then _YOU_ betrayed me, you ordered your men to take me away. Your precious Naaru tried to rip the Void from my very soul. I never want to hear you ask that again, ever.”

_KILL HIM. DRIVE THE BLADE INTO HIS THROAT. MAKE HIM BLEED FOR WHAT HE HAS DONE._

“You took everything from me. But I will not become you.” She spat finally, tossing her dagger onto the floor. Fighting against the screaming of the voice in her head.

Tyrande took her arm and moved to escort her from the room. Alleria chided at herself with every step she took away from him - to keep going, to be strong, _to be better._ But Turalyon, he was determined to toss one final stone.

One that hit harder than she had ever expected it to.

“If that Dragon Queen did something to you, I vow I will make her pay fo-.”

Alleria was helpless to stop the wave of raw blood lust that flooded through her veins and boiled over within her chest. Void magic summoned forth to her hands then, snaking up around the length of her arms. Darkness commanded every syllable she spoke.

“You will not lay a finger upon Alexstrasza, or I will tear you limb from limb.”

Jaina and Vereesa chose that moment to step back into the council room. Eyes widened at the sight of Alleria with void energies rolling off of her form and looking about five seconds from beating the life out of Turalyon. Poor Tyrande was there, trying to hold back the eldest Windrunner’s wrath.

The Paladin snapped. “That is it, you monster. Show your true colors to them all now!”

“Hey, Hey! That’s enough, the both of you!” Jaina shouted, bravely placing herself directly in Alleria’s warpath.

Vereesa grabbed at her sister, pulling her back. “Let it go, Alleria. You are better than this!”

“No! NO! You will not lay a fucking hand on her, you son of a bitch! Not while I still draw breath. Do it, I dare you - put your strength against mine, Turalyon! I will tear you apart!”

As Alleria screamed and fought against the hands which held her back, the Void energies cloaking her form grew stronger and stronger. Twisting her body, until the voice that fell from her lips was no longer her own. She snapped and snarled like some sort of ravenous beast.

Vereesa huffed and shouted over the noise, above all else. “Stop this! Alexstrasza’s work will be undone if you do this Alleria, stand down. Think of her, she taught you better than this!”

The name, it resonated within her chest and a spark of recognition flashed through her eyes. Until finally Alleria slumped back in the embrace of both her sister and Tyrande, defeated. Void magics shimmered and faded away, melting back into her skin.

“That’s it, that’s it. Just breathe, you’re okay now.”

Jaina pushed Turalyon back, attempting to distance the man from the ranger. He opened his mouth to speak but she held up a hand and frowned. “Keep your mouth shut, Turalyon. I don’t want to hear anymore from you.”

Tyrande pressed a hand to Alleria’s forehead, whispering some incantation beneath her breath. A soothing light radiated out from her fingertips and seemed to ease the tension from the ranger’s muscles.

“You still with us, Lady Sun?” Vereesa used the pet name, smiling down at her sister.

Alleria could only nod, chest still heaving from the outpour of emotions and her knees shook as she stood on her own. But the rage had faded from her eyes and she no longer seemed to be a threat to Turalyon, at least for now.

In the midst of their outburst however, footsteps pounded up the walkway that led into Stormwind Keep. They all turned to face the doors as Anduin flanked by six of his royal guards entered the council room, the King was out of breath and his shoulders shook. Like he had just run all the way back.

“Gather your forces immediately, we need to move... _now._ There has been an attack.”

“What has happened, your majesty?” Jaina moved to his side, trying to get him to speak despite his ragged breathing.

Anduin shook his head, the shock on his face was undeniable as he stepped further into the room. “I received an urgent report from one of our scouts. The Faceless ones and Naga...they have struck, without zero warning.”

Tyrande frowned. “Where? Where did they attack?”

“Tyrande, I am...so sorry.” The King murmured, reaching a hand up to clasp over her shoulder. Shock replaced by something else now, sorrow perhaps?

“It...was Teldrassil. Darnassus is about to be overrun, I have already scrambled what I can of Stormwind’s armies. But Horde forces were still stationed there, they have engaged them head on.”

The High Priestess had run from the room before anyone could stop her. Their pleas for her to wait never reached her ears.

 

* * *

 

“Warchief, an urgent message has arrived from Stormwind. Along with the order it has to be read _immediately._ ”

Sylvanas had still been gathered with the other leaders as Nathanos dropped the missive into her hands. She frowned at the man, then stared down at the wax seal on the piece of parchment.

Breaking the wax seal, the Warchief laughed and unfolded the parchment. “It is likely just the young king telling us that he has gotten his council to agree to the terms of ou-.”

Her words caught in her throat as she read what was written, her hands began to quake with unbidden rage. This could not be.

Saurfang looked to her worriedly. “Warchief? What is it?”

Her expression hardened and she lifted her head. “Mobilize every last soldier immediately. Order any forces on the return trip from Darkshore to turn around _right now.”_

The Warchief summoned her bow to hand and shoved the missive back into Nathano’s hands. Lor’themar’s hand shot out as she stormed past, wrapping around her arm to force her to stop. “What has happened, Sylvanas?”

“Teldrassil has been attacked. N’zoth was not keen on being denied, his own forces have stormed the shores...they have started butchering civilians, any and everyone in their path.”

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes and wretched her arm free from the Regent Lord’s grasp. “I want everyone to focus on evacuating civilians, bring them as far from the fighting as possible. GO NOW!”

When she rushed out of the hold, she barked out commands left and right. Nathanos moved to do his Queen’s bidding without question.

“Get our mages to open the portals to Darkshore, I need something faster than the path through Ashenvale. We need a defensive line set up in Darnassus and on Darkshore itself, we are on our own until the Alliance forces manage to get themselves back to assist.”

She had the whole of Orgrimmar moving at her word, gathering what champions she could on such short notice. Messenger after Messenger left the city to spread the word. Yet through the chaos around her, her thoughts were only on one.

_Tyrande. I will not fail you again._

“My lady, your honor guard is on standby to take you through to Darkshore and I am coming with.” Saurfang shouted, armored up and looking ready for the fight ahead.

“Let us get this done, save whoever we can and attempt a recapture of Darnassus. We are going to show N’zoth the Horde’s true strength on this day.”

They took off through the streets, she followed Saurfang through the mobilizing soldiers to where her guards were waiting. The Warchief toyed with her bowstring and shouted as the first portal into Darkshore opened.

She climbed up onto the back of her warhorse. “We will not falter before N’zoth. Show no mercy and give no quarter. Fight for your brothers and sisters, fight with everything you have...Fight for the Horde!”

The shouts erupted from her soldiers, how they shouted 'For the Horde!' with her Warchief. Pride flooded through her veins.

With her at their point, they all too gladly stormed through the portal and onto the center of the battlefield. Smoke and ash surrounded them on all sides, battle cries and the symphony of combat filled the air. Ready to face off against N'zoth and his forces.

War had come, and the Battle for Azeroth had just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Genn and Turalyon hate is very evident in this chapter :))))

**Author's Note:**

> Malfurion Stormrage Never Deserved Tyrande Whisperwind and that is just the Tea


End file.
